


Monsters and Starbursts and Cats oh my

by SparkleDragons



Series: The Magnus Archives Daemon Au [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Canon-Typical Violence, Daemons, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, a bit - Freeform, by the last chapter, canon compliant but with daemons, idk man i'm just here for a good time, look I know what I'm about, sorta a daisy character study? but set in a daemon au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:48:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23441209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleDragons/pseuds/SparkleDragons
Summary: Growing up Alice Tonner always wanted her daemon to settle as something strong, something that can protect people. A loyal wolf would be nice.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Series: The Magnus Archives Daemon Au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667359
Comments: 7
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said every wednesday but in my defence this was originally gonna be one chapter and then it started to edge into too long so now it's two chapters! I was trying to finish the whole thing before deciding to split it so sorry for the delay.
> 
> Also none of these things are going to have thematically similar titles.

Alice’s daemon, Fedlemid, prefers forms that make them feel powerful, wolves and eagles and big cats. Alice loves it. She likes to look strong, like she can do anything. She hopes Fedlemid settles as something as big as Alice wants to feel. She wants a daemon that makes people nervous, that makes people respect her when she enters a room.

Amalasuintha, Calvin’s daemon, is always taking on smaller, more clever things, like a meerkat or a weasel. He says she likes to be small and that Alice and Fedlemid can protect them if they need it anyways. Alice and Fedlemid both like that, being looked up to as protectors. Someday they’re going to extend that protection to everyone; they’re sure of it.

For now, though, they focus on watching each other's backs. Calvin lets Alice know which boys at school to avoid and she makes sure no one picks on him for anything. Alice doesn’t have many friends at school; she’s too rough for the other girls and too much of a girl for the boys. She has to look out for what she’s got.

The little abandoned patch of dirt they like to call their park is as good a place as any to hone their skills. She likes to poke at Calvin sometimes; he’s got to toughen up someday. The park’s secluded enough that no other pesky kids will come ruin their fun and their parents let them do what they want as long as they stay away from the construction site. They don’t, of course, but their parents don’t need to know that.

It’s a nice October day when Alice picks up a stick and wields it like a sword. Fedlemid takes her cue and turns into a falcon worthy of a knight, taking a perch on her shoulder.

“En-guard!” Alice challenges, swiping her makeshift sword through the air, enjoying the sound of whooshing air it makes. Fedlemid lets out a powerful screech, splaying her wings like the reagle daemon of a noble.

“Hey, wait!” Calvin scrambles for a stick of his own, holding it out much less confidently than Alice does. Amalasuintha curls over his shoulders as a ferret and sighs, not bothering to change into something more suited to the fun. She’s never been as big a fan of their games as Fed.

Alice grins and charges forward with a pitchy battle cry, swinging slow enough to give Calvin time to raise his own stick up to block. She and Calvin crack the sticks together a few times over. He never goes on the offencive, just backing up further and further in an effort to defend against Alice’s onslaught. Fedlemid gets into the spirt of things and glides off Alice’s shoulder and up to playfully tug at Amalasuintha’s tail with her beak.

Amala squeaks and scrambles around Calvin’s shoulders to burrow into his hoodie with a huff of indignation.

Eventually Alice manages to get in a good wack to Calvin’s side. Instead of rising up to the challenge, though, he calls the game off.

Alice blows a pouting raspberry at him and says, “You’re just mad I’m better than you.”

“No you’re not!” Calvin whines. “ _ I  _ was holding back!”

“Suuure you were,” Alice teases. “That’s why you never once-” a loud crash from the direction of the construction site catches her attention and she doesn’t finish her sentence; opting to stare off through the trees towards the forbidden place.

“What was that..?” Calvin whispers in nervous awe.

“Let’s go check it out!” Alice says without hesitation. She doesn’t give him a chance to respond before running off towards the abandoned site. Fedlemid hops off her shoulder and shifts seamlessly into a wolf to run along her side.

“Hey! Wait,” Calvin calls. Alice can hear him running after her.

“Bet they won’t last a minute,” Alice says to Fed, breath heavy from talking mid-run.

“You’re on!” she says, grinning wide up at Alice, canine tongue lolling out.

Alice grips the old worn-down fence with both hands when she meets it and gleefully lets it clang with her momentum. She stares wide-eyed at the old, unfinished building. The crashes continue, undercut every so often with angry, wordless shouting. Alice can feel her heart beating hard in her chest. Part of her tells her that maybe  _ just this once _ she should listen to her parents telling her not to go in there. The other part is desperate to find out what’s going on in there.

“Don’t-” Calvin heaves. “Don’t leave us behind like that! You know you and Fedlemid are faster than us.” He turns his attention towards the sounds of chaos and fighting coming from the build site. “Whoa... What’s going on in there?”

“I don’t know...” Alice whispers, her voice wavering more than she’s proud of.

A sharp chill goes down Alice’s spine when the site goes suddenly silent. After a moment of nothing a heavy lump sets in her stomach; that’s probably not a good thing, but... Alice leans over to Calvin and whispers, “Dare you to go check it out.”

Calvin splutters for a moment. “Really?” he asks, looking pleadingly at Alice.

“Do it… do it… do it! Do it! Do it!” Alice chants, voice staying at an exaggerated whisper even at the loudest.. After a moment Fedlemid joins in, bouncing around both of them, tail wagging excitedly.

Calvin groans and looks nervously at the site. “Fine! But you’re going in next,” he says. Amalasuintha pokes up from his hood and changes into a small, white marten to cling to his shoulder.

“This is a stupid idea,” Amalasuintha mumbles, pressing her face into Calvin’s neck.

Alice grins eagerly at how Calvin pats Amala’s head to calm her down. She’s gonna  _ win  _ this bet. Fed presses her head up against Alice’s side. Fed’s been sticking to her timber wolf form a lot lately and Alice really hopes that means she’s going to settle as one. That would be the coolest thing in the world, having a big canine like that for a daemon.

She can hear Calvin grumbling nervously to himself as he pushes under the gap in the fence. The soft clanging it makes sounds like the loudest thing in the world compared to the deathly silence of the abandoned construction site; it sends a thrill up Alice’s spine.  _ What if there’s a dead body in there _ ? Alice bounces on her heels, fingers hooked through the wire mesh of the fence, as she watches Calvin hesitantly make his way through the trash and rubble.

He stops at the doorway, just before he goes out of sight of the gap in the fence, and turns to look back at Alice. Amalasuintha’s a labrador at his feet, tail between her legs, but defensive, ready to protect Calvin to the best of her ability.

Alice grins and gives him a big thumbs up, hiding her own nerves behind the fake enthusiasm. He doesn’t bother pretending to smile back, only scowls at her before disappearing into the unfinished building.

A minute after going in, probably exactly one minute knowing Fed, Fedlemid presses up against Alice’s side and cheekily whispers, “I win.”

Alice sticks her tongue out at her. Probably just people on drugs getting into a fight. Not like they hadn’t seen stuff like that in there before. Ground’s always littered with used needles; they know what sort of people go there. There’s a reason their parents don’t want them going in there. She’ll give them another few minutes before they both come out all shaky and trying to pretend they weren’t terrified going in there.

But he doesn’t come out after five minutes. He doesn’t come out after ten minutes. And there’s still no sign of him after fifteen minutes.

“Something’s wrong,” Fedlemid says, tail drooping low, just coming short of tucking between her legs. “They should be back by now.”

Alice pauses in petting Fedlemid’s back, instead tangling her fingers in the fur along his ruff. “I’m sure it’s fine, Fed… They’re probably just… exploring?”

“Alice they’ve never taken this long,” Fedlemid presses her head against Alice’s side. “Calvin could be hurt. Or… or kidnapped. We need to get your mum.”

“Nooo,” Alice fists her hands over her ears, trying not to shake. “She-she’ll just be mad. I- We should go in after them.”

“You sure?” Fedlemid’s ears flick back, concern clear on her face.

Alice hums nervously, curling her knees in tighter. “Yeah… yeah. Stay close, though?”

“Of course,” Fedlemid says and gets to her feet. “I’ll even go first.”

Alice nods and keeps her hands grasped tightly in the fur on Fedlemid’s haunches as she pushes through the gate.

The site feels irie and dangerous as old cigarettes and dead leaves crunch under their feet. Something’s in the air; it makes her gut twist in on itself. She’s not afraid. She is absolutely not afraid. Calvin is  _ probably  _ just trying to freak her out. Of course it’s not working. Absolutely not. He’s just being an ass.

Fedlemid stops in the doorway, fur going on end. A deep snarl building in her throat.

“Fed…” Alice says nervously. “Fed what is it?”

She doesn’t stop snarling, sharp canines bared, tail tucked between her legs and Alice feels her heart beating heavy in her chest. She can feel Fedlemid’s fear flowing into her. Whatever’s inside is  _ bad _ . Whatever’s inside is  _ dangerous _ and that means Calvin and Amalasuintha are in danger too.

Alice steals herself and rounds the corner through the doorway, standing close beside Fedlemid. Her eyes go wide.

Inside lie two dead men in a pool of blood sparkling with shards of broken glass. One man’s lying on his side, empty eyes facing her and Fed. He has a bottle jutting out of his chest, driven so deep she can see glass poking through the other side, still dripping with crimson. His hand is still locked in a death grip around a shard that cuts both into his own hand and the throat of the second man.

There’s so much blood. It stains the dirt and splatters across the unfinished walls. Alice can  _ smell  _ the iron tang to the air, the smell of new death. She knows Fedlemid can too and presses closer. It’s… exciting, almost. Two dead bodies, two human lives that were alive only minutes before, that they probably  _ heard  _ killing each other, their daemons now powder on the wind. It churns her stomach, but it’s also a thrill, to be so close to mortality.

Then Alice looks up and her blood runs cold.

On the staircase stands Calvin and although his gaze is locked in Alice’s direction somehow she knows he can’t see her. Amalasuintha sits shaking at the top of the steps curled in on herself and changing forms so rapidly Alice can barely keep track.

A… well it must be a man because what else could it be, but something in Alice says it’s not, it can’t be without a daemon. It’s pale and hunched up behind Calvin. If it is a man she’s fairly sure it’s naked, though it’s so curled up she can’t quite say; she hates to think how tall it must be if it were to stretch itself out. Deep red wounds cover every centimeter of its skin Alice can see. They look fresh, bright and raw, and yet no blood seems to escape the broken flesh.

It’s face, if she can call it a face, presses close towards Calvin’s ear as it whispers to him, cracked lips moving fast, too fast to be normal. A long, sharp, black tongue flicks around and into Calvin’s ear with every word. One of its hands reaches behind them both, too long, and strokes along Amalasuintha’s back as she shakes. It makes Alice sick to watch, the way it’s tongue nips at Calvin’s face, the way it’s cuts don’t seem to work right, the way it’s  _ touching  _ Calvin’s daemon.

Fedlemid’s snarls go suddenly silent and she presses ever closer to Alice’s side. Any trace of excitement is gone; they’re both terrified. It’s so quiet, and yet Alice can’t make out a word the creature says. She can only watch as this  _ thing  _ torments her friend. She could cut the tension with a knife.

Then something shifts and Calvin’s eyes suddenly focus, dialed in on Alice. Fedlemid notices too and instantly grows in size, taking the form of a massive tiger, ready to defend her, fangs bared in a hiss and ears flat against her skull. Amalasuintha stops her frantic shifting and coalesses into a large, amber-eyed panther, bigger and meaner than any other form Alice has ever seen sweet little Amala take.

Calvin and Amalasuintha doesn’t give them another second more to react. Amalasuintha launches herself without a sound at Alice and she instantly  _ knows  _ Amalasuintha won’t hesitate to lay claws on her to kill. Alice scrambles to get away as Fedlemid clashes with Amalasuintha mid-air, slamming the other daemon to the ground with a roar.

Alice screams as sharp, violent claws drag through Fedlemid’s side, but she doesn’t have time to think of the pain, adrenaline urging her on. Calvin is slower than his daemon, but he chases after Alice with a speed she’s never seen before. She runs, fueled by adrenaline and stark terror. As the two of them run Fedlemid and Amalasuintha are forced to break their struggle and trail after to keep distance, snapping and swiping at each other as they go. Amalasuintha doesn’t make a sound in contrast to Fedlemid’s frantic snarls, Amala’s eyes are focused on the singular goal of killing them.

Alice isn’t fast enough, she turns back, eyes wide and panicked just in time to see Calvin too close, face broken in an emotionless grin of triumph. He slams into her like a train, sending Alice careening back and smashing into the old fencing surrounding the construction site.

“ _ ALICE _ !” Fedlemid screams as pain explodes through Alice’s shoulder and down her spine. Fedlemid shoves Calvin aside, the aggression and severity of the fight driving her to ignore the taboo. He barely moves, but it gives Fedlemid the space to curl in front of Alice, hissing with all the rage she can muster.

Alice blinks heavily through the pain, flashes of light spotting her vision. Calvin watches her, emotion returning to his face once more as Amalasuintha, still a massive cat, curls around his legs snarling her aggression. The cold pride she sees in Calvin’s eyes chills her blood and she and Fedlemid both collapse as the world goes dark.

* * *

After Alice wakes up Fedlemid doesn’t change anymore. She’s an Amur tiger and Alice decides that suits them. Wolves have packs that help them be strong. She and Fedlemid don’t need anyone.

The doctors tell her that her scar looks like a daisy. She doesn’t agree, thinks it looks more like a starburst when she sees it, but she likes the idea that it’s something soft and sweet, so unlike the fight that caused it.

Amalasuitha stops changing too, but she doesn’t take a small, nervous form like they expected her to. She’s fixed as the snarling, violent jaguar that left deep, permanent marks down Fedlemid’s side.

Calvin’s more aggressive and Alice is never comfortable near him again, becoming one of the boys she avoids as much as possible. She still remembers the violence in his eyes, the pride he felt at chasing her, terrifying her, hurting her. She remembers the fiery pain when Amalasuitha dug through Fedlemid’s flesh in an attempt to kill them both. Alice doesn’t have any friends anymore, she just hadn’t fully realized until now Calvin was the only one.

She starts introducing herself to people who don’t know her real name as Daisy, after the scar on her back. At first it’s to keep people from making the connection between her and the once-friend of Calvin Benchley, the violent boy who makes everyone uncomfortable. Over time she starts seeing it as her actual name, though. She’s not the weak girl who thought she could protect everyone anymore, who thought the worst things in this world were a couple of violent people. No. There are much worse things in this word, things that will take your friend and warp them into something terrible, something they don’t come back from.

* * *

Daisy’s been a cop for ten years when she can’t deal with it anymore. Calvin’s hurt so many people, gotten away with so much. He and Amala are just as much monsters as the two vampires she’s disposed of in the woods over the last three years. They’re going to keep hurting people and keep killing people unless someone stops them and Calvin’s just a bit too clever for the normal system to do it.

She’s already sectioned. No one would question her, just chalk it up to more weird stuff they don’t want to get involved in. And she’s sure no one would complain about not having to see his mug or face down his daemon during an arrest ever again.

It was the last case that made up her mind. The way the victims turned completely around and insisted they attacked him and that Amalasuitha was just defending him when she nearly tore off the poor woman’s daemon’s leg. Daisy knows for a fact that’s a lie. Fedlemid spent hours pacing their flat snarling about how it wasn’t fair, about how they needed to  _ do  _ something. Daisy’s inclined to agree.

Who would even miss Calvin? He’s violent and moody and has no friends or family from what she’s seen. Amala makes people afraid just by prowling into a room after him. The world would be better without them in it. The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes they’re really no better than the vampires she takes out to the woods to slaughter. Worse, even, because they can keep getting away with this stuff as long as they damn well please.

She tracks them for a week, finds out where he likes to go. Turns out the answer is the bars where Calvin gets his kicks from getting into drunken fights and Amala can slink through the poorly-lit shadows. Smart as he might be about getting caught, their movements are remarkably predictable once she figures out their patterns.

She’ll need something better than her baton, though. She remembers what he was like that first time, Fed’s scars are plenty enough to keep the image of him chasing her down fresh in her head for the rest of her life. Fedlemid should be able to handle Amalasuitha now, but Calvin might be tricky. He might be stronger and faster than she is, but she’s smarter.

Evidence lock-up is almost a joke to get into. Everyone knows she handles the monsters; they trust her; they’re afraid of getting sectioned too. No one’s going to confront her so long as she brings the gun back when she’s done. She’s just dealing with another monster; she has nothing to justify to anyone.

They’re patient. Daisy and Fedlemid wait in the alley near the bar every night for three days before they show. Her hiding spot’s questioned once, by a man with a rat daemon perched on his shoulder, clearly looking for an illicit sell. He leaves her alone as soon as she flashes her badge and Fedlemid her fangs. She’s content to let him to go back to the underhanded dealings he was planning for the night. She’s not looking to bust any low-brow criminals tonight; they’re hunting a real monster.

Calvin and Amalasuitha stumble out late, clearly inebriated. Calvin has a prominent black eye that shines under the faint streetlight and Amalasuitha’s tail drags behind her, unsteady on her feet from the alcohol in Calvin’s system. It’s almost too easy.

Daisy creeps up behind them, Fedlemid prowling low at her side. She can feel the blood rushing in her ears as she raises the baton. She pauses just a moment, wondering what it would be like if she gave him time to put up a fight, time to run. She wants to prove she’s stronger than him now… but it’s not worth the risk. She can’t let them get away, can’t let them hurt anyone else. She can’t make a scene.

Fedlemid pounces in time with Daisy’s swing and they bring the both of them down with ease. Daisy drags Calvin back into the alley, towards her car and awkwardly loads him into the back seat. He’s heavy, but she manages. Fedlemid grips Amalasuitha by the scruff and manages to haul her up to the car. Fed can’t get Amala into the back on her own; Calvin’s daemon is too big. Daisy eyes Amala for a moment. Her eyes flick towards Calvin’s unconscious body and she reminds herself he’s a monster. She leans down and grabs Amala’s hind legs. Whatever has to be done.

Fedlemid freezes in her efforts for a moment, eyes locking with Daisy’s. Her tail lashes momentarily, but she dutifully goes back to work maneuvering Amalasuitha in. With Daisy’s help they get it done. And climb into the front.

They drive in silence for a few minutes before Fedlemid says, “You touched Amala.”

“Yeah?” Daisy says, glaring forward at the road.

“We didn’t talk about you doing that.”

Daisy’s heart pounds with anticipation in her chest. “Their monsters  _ we  _ need to stop. And we’re going to do whatever it takes to do that. Right?”

“Sure,” Fedlemid says, curling back up in the space where a passenger seat would be for cops with smaller daemons. “If you say so.”

Daisy takes Calvin and Amala to the same spot she brings all her monsters. She parks the car and lets Fedlemid out first.

“They’re awake,” Fed says as she prowls out.

Daisy glances in the back seat and meets Calvin’s all-to-alert glare, nothing but pure rage behind it, not even an ounce of recognition. She smiles. Good, this would be too easy otherwise.

“Get ready, Fed,” Daisy says, pulling the handgun out as she reaches for the handle.

The moment the door unlocks, Amalasuitha launches out over Calvin’s lap, knocking Daisy back. Amalasuitha lands directly on Fedlemid, sending them both snarling across the ground.

Daisy grits her teeth against the pain and holds her weapon out in front of her as Calvin charges. She gets off one shot and would swear she got him dead in the chest if not for the way he doesn’t  _ stop _ . He barrels into her in unnerving silence, knocking the wind out of her chest.

He cracks her nose with his fist before she manages to bring her knee up into his groin. He doesn’t make a sound, the fire in his eyes only intensifying, but Amalasuitha’s pained snarl is all Daisy needs to hear. She brings the gun up and cracks Calvin over the head, pushing him off her and scrambling to her feet. Before he gets a chance to roll over and get up she unloads the remaining four shots into his chest.

Amalasuitha bursts into fine, golden powder from underneath Fedlemid. The dust dissipates before it hits the ground and it’s over.

Daisy stands there, pulling in heavy breaths, blood pouring down her face from her broken nose. She has to breathe through her mouth and all she can taste is her own blood. Fedlemid comes up behind Daisy and presses up against her side, solidly helping to hold her up.

“Well that’s done,” Daisy says. “They’ll never hurt anyone else.”

“Good work,” Fedlemid says.

“He won’t burn like the vampires,” Daisy says, going to the trunk for her shovel. “Let’s start digging.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeey. Sorry this is a week late. Had a rough week far as online school work goes. This once again got longer than expected and I had to add another chapter. This *should* be the last one, but who can say, really. I know the next chapter's gonna be a bit late cause I have a big final project due next week that's gonna take up all my time, but I have plenty more for this au coming so no worries!

No one comes to her about the hand gun when she doesn’t return it. Nore is she questioned about her broken nose, or the new claw marks scoring Fedlemid’s shoulder. No one wants to get sectioned and Daisy’s fairly sure no one really cares. Good riddance.

Calvin isn’t the last monster Fed and Daisy handle when no one else has the guts to. They’re heros. They take care of the freaks and no one bothers them about it. When they go off the grid for a few days at a time, chasing down their newest target, no one asks her where they were. Of course Daisy never specifies what they’re doing on the select few times someone new asks, but she knows no one wants this to get out. As long as she keeps it under wraps, and handles things discreetly, no one will come calling.

The other cop’s daemons start avoiding interaction with Fedlemid when they can, rushing close to their person whenever she turns a corner or enters a room, but she doesn’t mind. They work alone a lot now, and they both find that’s how they like it.

Except for Basira. Daisy keeps as much of what she does from Basira as she can manage. Sectioned or not Basira doesn’t need to concern herself with all of this, and Daisy still deeply appreciates her friendship. And if this all does blow up in Daisy’s face, the last thing she wants is for Basira to be involved just because their partners.

Daisy needs something to come back to at the end of the day; when she’s done with a chase it’d be all too easy to just move on to the next one, never return. She acknowledges Basira keeps her grounded and she’s grateful for it.

Daisy’s real work has to stall for a while when The Magnus Institute stirs up again; when the Gertrude Robinson case gets reopened. Daisy gets twitchy before long and Fedlemid takes to pacing even more than usual. They need to  _ do  _ something. Just entering the Institute makes both their heart rates spike and they don’t know  _ why _ . There’s something in there, something dangerous, something that needs to die.

That’s how Basira finds them, pacing. Basira’s cobra daemon, Badurad, is coiled around her shoulders, yellow and black scales shining bright despite how tired Basira looks. His head tracks Fedlemid’s continued movements even as Daisy pauses to acknowledge Basira’s presence.

“What’s that,” Daisy asks, leaning back against her desk like she isn’t moments away from tearing her own hair out and gesturing to the paper bag Basira’s holding.

“A favor I need to ask,” Basira says, holding it out for Daisy to take.

Fedlemid stops moving long enough to sniff curiously at the contents before huffing and continuing to pace. “Evidence from the Institute case?” She questions, tail flicking irritably behind her.

Daisy frowns and looks at the single, poorly labeled tape at the bottom of the bag. “Basira this was in lock up. What about the other tapes in there? They’re evidence.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Basira says. Badurad’s unreadable, tongue flicking out periodically to taste the air. “We’re not doing anything with these things. I need you to take them back to the Institute for me. I’m busy.”

“And why would I do that? Those freaks are all suspects.” Daisy manages to keep herself from snarling.

Basira shrugs. “Made an agreement with the head archivist. I can’t fulfill that right now and I know you’re not busy.”

“Basira, you know he’s at the top of my list. I’m not _helping_ him. Why are _you_?”

“Keeps him around,” Baduard says, calm as ever. “We’re only giving up one at a time… Just enough to keep him interested.”

Basira nods and says. “Right. We want to make him think we don’t suspect anything. The last thing we want is for him to bolt.

Daisy grits her teeth and reaches into the bag to further inspect the contents. If Baisra thinks she’s just going to hand over evidence to that building of crazy people she has another thing coming. If Jon bolts she’ll just have to find him.

Fedlemid stops dead in her tracks when Daisy’s hand closes around the tape. Daisy hums. Maybe it wouldn’t be that big a deal. Basira’s right. No one here is doing anything with these things; everyone is actually trying to brush the whole Institute thing under the rug. Maybe she could actually help with something again if she does this.

“Fine,” Daisy says, gathering the bag back up and stalking over to grab her coat, Fedlemid trailing behind her. “We’ll be back later, then.”

“Thanks,” Basira says. “I appreciate it.”

* * *

A little over two months later. Another murder at the Institute, again tied to the archives. Daisy isn’t directly assigned to the case, but when she shows up to the scene with Fedlemid bristling at her hip, no one moves to stop her.

She  _ knew  _ Jon did it. Who knows what that freak could have done to the tapes. She’s definitely seen weirder. And now, because of her hesitance, another man had been brutally murdered in his office.

She was going to find him. And when she did, she would so enjoy the sound of his daemon’s fragile bones snapping between Fedlemid’s teeth.

* * *

Daisy’s shaking when she leaves the archives, hand gripped tight in Fed’s fur. Bunch of monsters… All of them. She has work to do.

* * *

Weeks later Daisy startles awake, screaming and thrashing, from another nightmare about those delivery drivers, about Issac. Fedlemid props her head up on the bed, pressing into Daisy’s chest. She shakes as she wraps her arms tight around Fed’s head, welcoming the comfort.

Daisy is going to kill that rat bastard. She’ll kill him. He’s more than just a murderer. He’s a real monster.

She knew something was up with him. The way she just handed over the tape, the way it felt like a fog had cleared when she left the institute. Now she had proof. Jonathan Sims is a monster and it seems he’s been stalking her nightmares for months. He probably  _ did  _ mess with the tapes, with those freaky powers of his.

Seems his presence in her dreams hasn’t been her mind simply altering her perception, weaving the latest murderer she’s hunting. The shirt he was wearing was far too distinct, too random to be something her mind would have just conjured up for him. He’s been watching her.

She has a new monster to find, to kill, before he goes and hurts someone else. She doubles her efforts, looking into as many resources as she can get her hands on without actually going to the station. Bouchard already sent enough to her superiors to get them on her case; they’ve been sending her multiple emails about it. She hasn’t read any of them.

* * *

The monster’s dragonfly daemon drops a few feet from him. Daisy curls her lip and nudges the daemon with her boot, weak little thing. Pathetic.

“Detect…  _ Detective _ ,” the second monster in the room watches her wide-eyed and Daisy can hear the blood rushing in her ears.

“Don’t touch-” His daemon starts to reprimand Daisy.

“Shut up,” she snarls, cutting the thing off. He’s not going to pry any more questions out of her brain today. “He human?”

“What?” Jon falters. More questions; always more questions.

“Is this man human?” She’s fairly sure she knows the answer, but if she’s wrong it’s not like anyone at the precinct knows where she is these days.

“I… Er, no, I, I don’t think so… Not anymore.” He sounds so pitifully sad, playing all innocent. It makes her sick. At least she was right, though; it’s not a real man at all.

“Right,” Daisy says and nods to Fedlemid who crouches low, more than ready to pounce if the creature picks itself up. “What does it do?”

“Er, he… It feels like, he makes you… Vertigo.” The way Jon stutters over his words makes Daisy want to punch him. “Like you’re falling.”

“Has he killed people?” Because that’s what matters isn’t it, hurting innocents. He’s still a monster that needs to be put down regardless, of course, but maybe he deserves some small mercys. Maybe she can let him go for another chase, another time.

“Er, y-yes. Yes a few, I think.” Well nevermind, then.

“Does he need to see you to do it? Does he need to speak?”

“I-I-I don’t know…”

“Ok,” Daisy nods to Fedlemid and she obliges by taking a paw and cracking it against the side of the man’s head, smashing his skull against the wall with a heavy cracking sound. She can hear Jon’s breath pick up at the sight of it. More judgment for how she and Fed handle themselves. “Doubt he can do it in a coma. Now turn that off,” she gestures to the crackling tape recorder, “and help me get him in the car. Your daemon can carry his; lighter touch. Don’t try to run.”

He starts asking a question and Daisy socks him across the face before he can finish. His daemon tries to take flight, but Fedlemid bats her out of the air before she gets far. Jon gasps in pain a second time as she hits the floor. “Th-”

“What did I say about questions?” Daisy cuts him off. “I said turn that off!”

Jon fumbles for the button, but finally does as told.

“Good,” she grabs the recorder and shoves it in her own bag. She’ll smash and burn it later. “Now move. And keep quiet.”

She can practically smell the fear wafting off Jon, but he does as he’s told. She allows him a brief moment to gather his daemon up from the floor and wonders how connected to his soul he really is anymore. How much of it is just a pitiful act to pull sympathy from her heart. It won’t work.

He ends up shaking too much to prove useful in moving the man and she takes over. He’s light, and even smaller than Jon, so it proves less trouble than she expected. At least they both have daemons small enough to both fit in the back.

“Right,” Daisy says, starting the car. “Now if you make any move to summon help from people on the street, I’ll kill you both right here in the car. Understand?”

“Y-”

“Shut up. Just nod.” Who knows what other shit he can do if he starts babbling on.

She glances in the rearview mirror and notes the way he’s clutching his daemon tight to his chest, as if a magpie could protect him at all. After a moment, though, he nods.

“Good,” Daisy says and pulls the car out. The drive is comfortable, familiar. Her heart beats fast in her chest in anticipation of what her body knows comes next and she has to focus on keeping her breath even. She keeps her attention on the road else her mind wanders towards pulling over right away and killing Jon right there in the back seat. Nothing as thrilling as the moment of the initial success of a long hunt. Nothing like that feeling of a job well-done.

She stops the car in the small dirt patch she always does, just far enough off the road to be hidden from people driving by. Fedlemid prowls outside Jon’s door while she goes around to the other side and heaves the other monster over her shoulder.

“Get his daemon,” she nods her head towards the back seat, where the frail little dragonfly is still curled up, as unconscious as her partner.

Jon releases his daemon with visible reluctance to gently pick the thing up in her beak. She flaps back to sit on his shoulder the second she can, feathers fluffed in fear.

“Now get out and walk,” she orders. “Don’t try to run. Fedlemid outpaces you.”

Jon nods shakily and opens his door, eyes flicking between Fedlemid and Daisy. Fed bares her teeth at him and he pulls his oversized hoodie tighter around himself before starting to walk forward on unsteady feet, clutching his bag tightly as if it would protect him.

They walk in silence for a solid thirty minutes before coming to a stop in Daisy’s regular clearing. They’re far enough from the road that no one will come running at the sound of gunshots.

“This is it,” she declares, dumping the “vertigo” monster on the ground unceremoniously. He slumps with his arms and legs tangled in the dirt, a tiny, deceptively weak-looking man. What horrible ways has he led innocents to their torturous deaths?

She looks at Jon and nods once to indicate he can talk. She’ll give him that much. Unlike him,  _ she’s  _ not a monster. 

“So… so what now? You kill us?” He asks. Christ, she lets him speak for a  _ moment _ before she kills him and the first thing he does is ask two questions. At least she isn’t being forced to answer. And she doesn’t, just watches the way his eyes flick towards the man on the ground.

“You think he’s going to save you?”

Jon jumps, as if she wouldn’t have seen that look. “What!? What, no! I-”

Daisy draws her gun and fires it into the thing’s skull before he can finish. She isn’t here to play games. Jon shouts his fear and brings his arms up to cover his head, shaking like a pathetic leaf. His daemon starts coughing as the dragonfly in her mouth explodes into golden dust. They’re both breathing heavily in terror, it fills Daisy with a perverse sort of glee. He  _ should  _ be afraid, after what he’s done to her, to others. After the people he’s killed.

“Now let’s see the bag,” Daisy commands, holding out a hand.

Jon continues to gasp for air as he hands over his satchel. As soon as it’s out of his hands he’s reaching trembling hands up to his daemon and bringing her into his arms to press against his chest. Daisy eyes their matching poc-mark scars and wonders if they were already monsters when the Institute first got attacked or if that was a later development.

Doesn’t matter; they’re monsters now. She digs through the bag’s contents, noting each thing she pulls out and puts in a pile next to it. Some things’ll have to be buried with his body, others she should be able to burn without much trouble.

It only takes a second to notice the recorder’s on. When the fuck did he- “You sneaky little freak! You want to record this?” She brandishes it in his face and Fedlemid starts snarling and prowling forward, hackles raised and tail lashing. She almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of it. “Alright! I’d have to destroy it anyway.”

Jon looks like he’s about to fall over with how hard he’s shaking. “What, I? I… I didn’t…”

More questions, always more questions. Daisy brings up her gun and presses it to his head.  _ That _ shuts him up. For a moment.

“Pl-Please don’t shoot me…” His eyes are wide as moons, his daemon little more than a trembling ball of feathers in his arms, and Daisy can practically  _ smell  _ his fear. Blood rushes in her ears.

Jon gathers himself, for just a moment and his eyes gleam  _ unnaturally  _ bright as he asks, “Why are you doing this? Tell me!”

Daisy’s had  _ quite _ enough of that. She drops the recorder to grab him by the throat, pressing  _ just  _ hard enough to make talking hard. She twists and presses him up against a tree for better leverage. His arms instinctively go to her hand at his neck, releasing his daemon for the precious moment Fedlemid needed to snatch her, snagging a wing with her teeth. Daisy revels in the flood of adrenaline as Fed brushes against Jon in the maneuver. Only one of Fed’s paws is enough to keep the little bird pined. It would just take the tiniest bit more pressure…

“Stop… asking…  _ questions _ !” Daisy growls, teeth bared. She wishes she had Fedlemid’s fangs; she wishes she could tear his throat right out with her teeth. He struggles for a moment, and she lets him. He’s weak and his futile efforts aren’t going to get him anywhere.

“ _ Jon! _ ” His daemon cries. “What are you-” Fedlemid snarls and presses ever so slightly down before the thing can finish the question. Daisy can feel Fed’s satisfaction at the sound of a fragile bird bone popping in her chest and Jon’s choked off cry of agony to match

Daisy drops the gun in favor of the knife from her belt and says, “That’s how you want it? Fine. You brought a knife.” She presses the blade to his throat, taking immense satisfaction at his fearful gagging. “So we go through the voicebox.”

Blood dribbles down the blade as she starts adding pressure. She’ll make this slow. She wants this to  _ hurt _ , wants him to be  _ afraid _ .

“ _ Daisy _ !” Basira shouts from behind her and Daisy pauses.  _ What is she doing here _ ?  _ She’s _ not supposed to see this. She was never supposed to see this.

“Daisy, put him down.” Basira sounds like she’s trying to talk down an unpredictable criminal and Daisy wants to spit that she’s the  _ good one here _ .

“You been following me and Fed, Basira?” Daisy accusses. How  _ dare _ she.

“I didn’t need to,” Basira says and Daisy still doesn’t take her eyes off Jon, doesn’t release the pressure of her hand or the knife. He’s still making periodic choking noises. “I know what you do here.”

“He tell you?” Daisy asks, pressing the knife a fraction deeper, just enough for another bead of blood to trail down the blade.

“He didn’t need to!” Basira insists, voice pitched up in a way that makes Daisy angrier. She’s not some feral animal that needs to be subdued. “You’re not that subtle,” Basira continues. “But I… I always thought you just killed monsters…”

“We  _ do _ !” Daisy growls. How can Basira not  _ see  _ how much of a monster Jon is?

“We know what we’re doing, Basira,” Fedlemid backs Daisy up, dragging Jon’s daemon a few centimeters across the ground to the sound of her and Jon’s matching gasps of pain. “We  _ know  _ what they are.”

“Just let them go,” Basira says, quietly. Daisy finally tears her eyes away from Jon and watches Badurad slither forward and coil up around one of Fedlemid’s paws. Fed snarls at him briefly in warning before understanding he’s just coiling, not threatening. Her teeth stay bared. Jon’s daemon continues gasping for breath under another paw.

“Fedlemid,  _ please _ ,” Baduard whispers, nudging his head against her leg. “Don’t do this.”

“You don’t know what he is,” Daisy says, hating the trembling in her voice. “You don’t know what it’s like to have your secrets…  _ pulled out  _ like  _ teeth _ , just because he asked!” She doesn’t realize her grip’s loosened in her own fear.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t-” Jon manages to choke out, prompting Daisy to tighten her grip again, cutting him off before he can start  _ asking  _ again.

“ _ Daisy _ !” Basira shouts over Jon’s resumed gagging. Daisy turns to glare back at Basira.

“Don’t you…” Daisy darts her eyes between Basira and the tangle of daemons. “Don’t you  _ dare _ look at me like I’m crazy. It got you too… Or do you think we gave him those tapes because we  _ like  _ handing out evidence?”

“What?” Jon asks, sounding genuinely confused and Daisy can’t believe he’s still keeping up this act. She doesn’t bother tightening her grip again. She doesn’t want to do this in front of Basira. Doesn’t want Basira looking at her like this.

“That’s not how it happened,” Basira insists.

“No? You ask me to take a tape over to this murdering freak, and I’m all set to tear you a new one for it… but then I get the cassette in my hand, and suddenly  _ all  _ I want to do is deliver his tapes and spill my guts.” Daisy’s shaking now and she  _ hates  _ it, memories of her nightmares flashing behind her eyes.

“So… So now you kill him?” Basira asks.

“First him, then his creepy boss and his creepier bird,” Daisy grins, but she can feel the energy behind her anger draining.

“This is too far,” Baduard says. “You both know it is.”

“He murdered  _ two  _ people,” Daisy snarls. “Maybe more. I’ve done one monster today, no reason not to do another.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t kill anyone!” Jon insists and Daisy’s lip curls at the tears pricking in his eyes.

“For god’s sake look at him!” Basira practically shouts and Daisy hates herself for it, but understands what Basira’s talking about. Jon’s been a nervous wreck this entire time. Most of the monsters fight back or take it, not turn into a sniveling mess.

“Then who?” Daisy snaps.

“ _ Someone _ killed those people,” Fedlemid snarls. “ _ Someone  _ needs to die.”

“I thi- I think it was  _ Elias _ ,” Jon says, practically crying at this point.

“Yeah, well,” Daisy shrugs. “He’s on our list too.”

“What if he asks?” Basira stops Daisy before she can just  _ end  _ this already.

“What?” Daisy says.

“If he can mind control people,” Baduard says, “make them tell the truth, why not try it on Elias?”

“Daisy…” Fedlemid says, tone warning. Neither of them want to actually face Elias head on.

“He’s got… he’s got his own… He knows things…” She can still see the way he looked at her. The sound of his fancy little peacock daemon’s feathers rattling as Elias stared  _ through  _ her still haunts her dreams, when she isn’t dreaming of coffins and faceless delivery men that is. She finally lets go of her grip on Jon and he collapses bodily to the ground, heaving each breath. “Would that  _ work _ ?”

“I don’t know…” Jon gasps, holding his throat with one hand and his chest with the other. “I… I could try? Thee…” Jon reaches towards his daemon, still pinned under Fedlemid’s paw. He’s breathing heavily, struggling in the same way his daemon is despite Daisy releasing him.

Daisy glares towards the daemon that’s no longer bothering to struggle. Fedlemid could still end it. It would be simple.

“Daisy!” Basira shouts. “This might be our only chance to find out what’s going on.”

Daisy glowers at Basira and bares her teeth before letting out a huff. “Alright.” She nods at Fedlemid and she lifts her paw to release the magpie daemon who manages to drag herself forward about a centimeter before giving up again.

Jon pushes himself to shakily crawl the meter or so forward to gather her into his arms, collapsing back to sit in the dirt and leaves.

“But if this doesn’t work, you’re still dead,” Daisy snaps, stalking past Jon to scratch Fedlemid’s head.

Jon takes deep, shaky breaths. “Yeah… Yeah.”

“What about Mike?” his daemon asks. Her voice sounds pained. Daisy wouldn’t be surprised if Fed cracked a rib or two.

“Who- Oh…” Daisy connects the dots and looks unfeeling at the nearly-forgotten corpse. She can still hear her heartbeat and Fedlemid’s tail whips with frustration at not having anything to take all this energy out on. “Grab a spade.”

They bury the body efficiently, even with Jon having to stop after only a few minutes of work, in too much pain from his daemon’s injuries. It makes Daisy glare and Fed snarl, but Basira and Baduard convince her he deserves the rest.

He’d better be fine when they get back to the Institute. Maybe she’ll still kill him, once Elias is dead. Two birds with one stone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mooost of this chapter is dialog lifted from ep 91: The Coming Storm mostly cause I really wanted to write out that scene. The last chapter of this part won't be quite so direct-from-episode, but I felt this scene was a better show than a tell even if we've all listened to it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! Sorry it's been so long. Uh. I've been coping with stuff by playing an unholy amount of animal crossing and this got sorta put to the back burner.
> 
> But Daisy's bit is done! This was so much longer than I first intended. Now I have a few other wips in this au i wanna get out so I'm not done yet!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me <3

The archive staff, well, aside from Basira,  _ damn _ , head back down to the archives. Tim looks furious, his cat daemon’s ears are pinned to her skull and her basey snarling is almost comparable to Fedlemid’s. She stalks, bristling, after Tim as he brushes off any of Martin’s attempts to discuss what just happened, what they just learned.

Daisy considers leaving the Institute entirely, but she’s not going to risk running into her now former coworkers. She will  _ not _ be punished for what she’s done to save people, to stamp out the monsters of this world. Fedlemid stands at her side outside Elias’s office, tail lashing, but not making a sound. Her ears are pressed back, eyes narrowed and Daisy knows she’s feeling just as cornered. They both need to lash out at something, to release all this pent up energy. But their last two options are no longer on the table apparently.   
  
Daisy settles on wandering the Institute. If anyone wants to question her they can deal with the consequences. No one does, person and daemon alike pressing against the wall to get out of their way. It makes Daisy feel strong, knowing she frightens people. No one would mess with her. No one but Elias and his  _ freakish  _ omniscient knowledge.

Trapped. Daisy’s heart is beating hard and she just wants to tear into something. She wants to feel something’s life leave it under her hands, between Fedlemid’s teeth, between  _ Daisy’s _ . She started the day expecting to kill a monster and she hasn’t been able to do  _ anything _ . She should have just killed Jon, should have ended it right there and then gone after Elias alone. Then Basira wouldn’t be wrapped up in this. Then he wouldn’t have a  _ hostage. _

Daisy stops in the hallway and roars, slamming the side of her fist against against the wall. It burns and she brings her hand up to clench and unclench it in front of her face.

“Don’t do that,” Fedlemid childs.

“Yeah, yeah.” Daisy wipes her nose with the now-reddening hand. “I know,” 

“Only person you care about?”

Daisy whips around, teeth bared in a cut-off snarl. She hadn’t realized Basira was following her. Instead of answering she just crosses her arms and leans against the hall wall trying to disguise the anger bubbling under her skin. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I should have handled Elias on my own.”

Baduard lifts himself up from the ground to eye Daisy and she turns away. She doesn’t need his judgment either.

“You mean kill him?” He says and Daisy  _ hates  _ that she can never read his tone.

“Yes!” Daisy snaps. “I mean kill him. Don’t tell me you think he doesn’t deserve it.”

“Oh no he does, don’t get us wrong, but I involved myself when I tracked you,” Basira holds up a passifying hand. “Glad I did, too.”

“Why?” Daisy snears. “Cause I almost finished off the  _ other  _ monster here?”

“Jon hasn’t killed anyone, Daisy. You know that now.”

“That doesn’t mean he hasn’t hurt people,” she only barely restrains herself from screaming. “He’s just as much a monster as his  _ freaky  _ boss and we wouldn’t be  _ in  _ this mess if I’d killed him when I could.”

“You’re right.” Basira shrugs and bends down to gather Baduard into her arms.

“What?” Daisy jerks her head up. She wasn’t prepared for Basira to agree with her.

“You’re right. If I hadn’t followed you, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t the right thing to do, though,” Baduard adds on, tongue flicking out before and after he speaks.

“You would have killed Elias along with everyone else in the Institute,” Basira says. “Innocent people, Daisy.”

Daisy just huffs in response, but Fedlemid snarls, “He put us. On a  _ leash _ . Like  _ dogs _ .”

Her tail lashes behind her, ears pinned to her head and Daisy reaches out a hand to scratch along the scruff of Fed’s neck. Fed growls deep in her throat before taking a seat on her haunches. “I’m not following his orders,” she huffs.   
  
“We don’t have a choice,” Daisy says, quiet.

“ _ You’re _ not trapped,” Basira points out. “Just me and Baduard.”

“Yeah, well, if you’re trapped means I might as well be too,” Daisy says.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I-,” Daisy lets out a feint growl of frustration. “You heard him. I don’t have anyone else. He has stuff on me, I- While you’re trapped, so am I.”

Basira looks Daisy quite obviously up and down. “If you say so.”

* * *

The cracking of plastic between her teeth isn’t as satisfying for Fedlemid as flesh was, but it’s something. Daisy has to admit, there  _ is _ a certain joy to watching the heads of mannequins splinter under her knife or gun, to seeing sawdust pool on the floor from the gut of a shaking sack of stolen skin.

As much as she hates Elias, and she does  _ hate  _ him, at least she has a consistent outlet for the angry energy bubbling under her skin now. She and Fed can be ruthless in hunting down puppets and plastic pretending to be human.

They had to abandon their apartment. Couldn’t risk people coming to look for her there. Basira and Baduard had to leave too and it makes the knot in Daisy’s stomach twist. It’s her fault. Daisy and Fed have been fine living out of their car. They’re on the move most of the time anyways. But those two? They’re living out of a motel right now and it’s eating Daisy up inside.

She takes her anger out on sawdust dolls, dials her frustration into hunting down monsters masquerading as people.

* * *

Blood pounds in her ears and the world around her spins. Where is she? Who is she? Where… she’s missing something. Someone? A piece of her. Where’s…? Who are these… people?

Two? Is two the right number? Maybe there are three or eight or thousands of them? Figures approach her. Who are they? Are they here to hurt her? Are they friends? No. No they aren’t friends. She has no friends. Does she? Maybe... but… thinking  _ hurts _ and the blood in her ears is  _ so loud _ .

Something presses against her side and it’s making the oddest rumbling sound. Daisy backs away from the rumbling thing. It’s not a threat… she thinks. No. The rumbling thing is safe. What is it?

The… the bad  _ things _ are making sounds at her and she turns back around to face them. Where is her face? Talkin? Yes talking. They’re talking. Why won’t they  _ shut up _ . She can’t  _ think _ .

It’s all too loud.

“No…” she groans and stumbles back into… something. Someone? This… this is important to her. The rumbling thing. It’s… it’s not rumbling anymore. Is it the same thing? She doesn’t understand. She runs her hands over its stripes that make her head spin but are somehow more grounding than the rest of the world twisting around her too. What is this thing that’s so important?

And those  _ things _ are still talking. Those things that are two things but also one thing and that she  _ hates _ but she doesn’t know  _ why _ and her pulse drums heavy in her chest.

“ _ Leave _ …” she tells them, but where are they? Where can you leave to? “No…” she doesn’t  _ understand _ . She was trying to.. They were? What was she doing?

Her hands tighten in the… fluffy… something on the no-longer-rumbling thing. It’s not talking. That’s good. She likes that...

Hunting. She was  _ hunting _ . Yes that’s the first thing that’s made sense since… since. It makes sense. What was she hunting?

“-me, Basira,” the bad, talking thing says.

“And I’m Baduard,” the other one says.

No. No that’s wrong. She  _ knows  _ that’s wrong. Basira is… Baisra is good. She knows that. She thinks she does, but the thought slips through her mind like water. These things… thing? isn’t good… They’re bad… monsters. “No, you’re not… Because nothing is anything,” how could they be… Who? Who is Basira? What’s a… Basira? Basira’s important… yes. “ _ Leave _ .”

She wants them to go away. Everything needs to go away so she can  _ think _ , but they’re still talking and the sound in her ears  _ roars.  _ The no-longer-rumbling thing starts rumbling again, but this time deeper and angrier.

She looks at them, still talking, and thinks of how easy it would be. She isn’t anything, they aren’t anything. She could tear them apart. She  _ should _ tear them apart.

“I’ll kill you,” She says and it makes sense. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Flesh tearing under her fingers, under her teeth. That would make sense. She  _ wants _ that.

They’re still here. They’re still talking, but Daisy listens to the blood in her veins, the one thing that sounds  _ right _ , the one thing that sounds like it might be  _ her _ .

“-don’t even know what a gun is,” It--they, say. And she doesn’t, but she knows what her teeth are, what claws are. She doesn’t need anything but herself.

“I. Don’t.  _ Care _ ,” she snarls, mimicking the sound the rumbling thing makes and stops trying to think, to make sense of the world. All that needs to make sense is the thing under her tearing, screaming,  _ dying _ . She can taste the blood and the  _ blood _ makes sense. Her world zeros into the thing underneath her and the way its flesh  _ tears _ as she digs her claws in. The rumbling thing is helping to tear into the bad thing and she decides the rumbling thing is definitely good. It also has teeth and claws and fiery blood in its eyes and that’s good, that makes sense.

And she laughs. She made it make sense. She  _ won. _ She feels  _ good _ .

It’s like she can  _ feel  _ the blood pulsing through her veins. She can certainly feel it on her face, can smell it and the underlying musk of wood. She continues to tear into the body, until she starts clawing up only handfuls of bloody sawdust. She looks up and snarls, the rumbling good thing matching her tone and moving forward, crunching over false bone as it goes.

“You killed him! Do you even know what you’ve done?”

That voice comes through loud and clear and she doesn’t  _ care _ what it means. She starts laughing again and takes a deep breath, heaving in the smell of plastic and old wood and gore. Daisy growls deep and low in her throat. New meat, new blood, new  _ prey _ . She hopes this one  _ runs _ .

“Kill…. You….” she snarls, baring her teeth and stalking forward. She doesn’t care what it’s saying. It’s only prey, only something to kill, something to  _ hunt _ . The rumbling thing stalks around to flank the prey, try and corral it into running, into  _ fear _ . She’s not going to be afraid anymore. It’s time for her prey to be scared of her. 

The blood makes sense. She can focus like this

She circles her prey; licks the gore from its companion off her lips as it babbles, pulls something that  _ isn’t  _ prey forward. The box isn’t important. It isn’t her hunt.

Her prey’s ready for her this time and brings its arms up to defend itself when she pounces. She digs her teeth deep into its arm and locks her jaw, brings her hands up to claw past and towards its throat. Her packmate launches at the prey’s back, latching on tight with razor-sharp claws. A sharp thrill goes through her spine when her partner does that, like she’s attacking the prey from both sides  _ herself _ . It feels  _ good _ .

It roars and throws her off, not even flinching as a chunk of its arm comes with her. Daisy braces herself as she hits the floor and spits out the hunk of flesh. She looks up to see her prey tearing the rumbling thing off its back and throwing it aside. Daisy and her hunting partner lift themselves up in turn before moving forward again. They circle once, slowly.   
  
“Kill…” Daisy bares her teeth and lunges a second time, coming just short of her prey’s neck when it smashes a fist into her face, sending her sprawling on the ground. She’s about to get up again when a sharp pain laces through her skull. She screams and looks up at the prey rearing back to kick the good, rumbly thing again. It  _ hurts _ and she struggles to pick herself up, dazed, as the prey turns to stalk over to her. 

She thrashes when it grabs her by the wrists and drags her across the floor. She growls and snaps her teeth, digs her claws in the hand holding her, writhes as it pulls her towards the box.

When it opens the lid something in her tells her to fight for her life, that whatever happens, not to let this thing put her in that box. Daisy roars and strains against the hands holding her, dragging her forward and over the box, over death.

The rumbling thing launches towards the prey, a bundle of rage and furocity, only to be kicked away again, sending another wave of pain through Daisy’s side as she hangs over the precipice of death.   
  
Her prey doesn’t say a word, simply lets go, and Daisy plummets.

* * *

Fedlemid trails after Breekon with her tail dragging on the ground and head hanging low. By the laws of physics she and Daisy are only separated by a thin, wooden box, but her heart  _ yearns _ and aches like they’re miles apart. Breekon doesn’t bother her. He knows the pain of being without your other half, there’s little more he can do to hurt Fed than to leave her like this.

So she trails after the coffin, after Daisy. She doesn’t have the energy to fight Breekon anymore. What would she do without him, anyways? Sit wherever the coffin rests for the rest of time? No. She’s better off just following, hoping for change she knows won’t come.

It’s hard to keep track of time without Daisy’s work as a marker. Fedlemid manages to keep note of the first month or so, when Breekon still manages to drag himself through the motions of delivering. Most people seem to assume she’s his and the thought would make her stomach churn if she cared anymore.

Then that stops too. He just sits at the front of the van, parked for days, staring blankly out the front. Fedlemid spends those days curled up on top of the coffin, occasionally clawing hopelessly at the grain. Sometimes the coffin claws back and she can almost make herself believe it’s Daisy. Almost.

Sometimes Breekon moves the van and over time Fed stops caring where they go. She never leaves the back of the van anymore, just pressing as much of herself as she can against the awful, wooden beast that swallowed her heart.

Fedlemid doesn't know how long it continues like this. Sometimes Breekon leaves the van and she doesn’t know where he goes or how long he’s gone when he does that. Time blends together and loses its meaning. Fed itches to chase something, to kill. She paces the back of the van until that loses its appeal too. Then she just sits next to the coffin or on top of it, not bothering with the way the chains dig into her. She can’t do anything but lay there and feel the bond between her and Daisy grow thinner and thinner.

Will she fade away eventually? Just collapse into dust like so many of their prey? No… No this world wouldn’t give her the luxury of letting her die. Just another creature trapped forever by the sunken coffin.

One day when Breekon returns he opens the back door of the van. The light’s bright and she has to close her eyes against the glare. She doesn’t remember the last time she saw the sun, saw anything but dark, metal walls. She doesn’t remember the last time she moved more than the amount needed to shift position.

“Pathetic beast,” Breekon says, tone as empty as Fedlemid feels.

He closes the doors without another word and Fedlemid sighs, low and mournful.

She can feel the van starting under her, rumbling to life. It’s been… she doesn’t know how long it’s been since Breekon last moved the van. A long time, she thinks, but it’s hard to say. Maybe they drive for days, maybe a few hours, it doesn’t matter, but when they come to a stop she once again has to close her eyes against the bright light of day.

Breekon doesn’t say anything, just reaches towards the coffin, and Fedlemid can’t find it in herself to snarl, only whine pitifully as he drags the coffin a fraction of a centimeter away from her. She struggles to get to her feet and drag herself after the box; it’s been too long. She manages to push herself strenuously to her feet and stumble one slow foot at a time. She must look terrible, atrophied and sick, fur matted and dusty.

Breekon looks at her blankly before grabbing her roughly by the scruff of her neck and dragging her forward and out of the van. Fed’s hips hit the ground and she snarls in weak protest. She can walk by herself, but Breekon’s impatient and she’s gotten slow. She feels empty, being dragged roughly alongside the coffin. At least something’s changing. Or maybe he’s dragging her somewhere to leave her forever, tired of bringing around an empty husk of a daemon everywhere he goes.

She doesn’t realize where she is until long after he’s pulled her through the building’s doors and across the tiled floor. She doesn’t realize until the smell of old, dusty paper hits her nose. The institute. That’s appropriate. Leave her deep in the archives, where she can waste away with no one to bother her.

Breekon drops both her and the coffin. Fed collapses in a heap on the floor and drags herself forward on split claws and burning muscles to press up against the box where her heart still lies, where Daisy’s still suffering and afraid.

A door opens somewhere on the other side of… whatever dark room they’re in.

“Don’t. Say. A word,” Breekon snarls with more life than Fedlemid’s been in the presence of in what feels like forever.

Fed doesn’t move her head, too much effort, when she blearily looks up. Her vision’s hazy from a hunger that won’t kill her and it takes her longer than it should to recognize Basira and Baduard in the room’s dim light. Fedlemid blinks slow and heavy, the most emotion she can bear to muster at seeing them again.

“Fed…” Baduard says in a hushed whisper, blatantly ignoring what Breekon instructed. Breekon doesn’t make a move, though. Fed knows he doesn’t care enough to bother anymore, she can understand that.

The door opens again and someone walks in that distantly makes Fedlemid think,  _ prey _ . The thought slips away like everything else.

“Jon,” Basira says, and right, yes, that’s Jon. He seems different. Fedlemid can’t find it in herself to care. “Don’t turn on the light. Go get Melanie, quickly.”

“It’s alright, Basira, I know he’s here.”

Fedlemid lets their words fade into the background. So she’s with people she knows again; it doesn’t matter. Daisy’s gone. No one else matters, not really. Maybe Basira and Baduard, but it’s not as if she’d be much help protecting them anymore. Daisy was the one in love and she, well… She’s not coming back.

Static buzzes in her ears, snapping her out of her thoughts, and they flatten to her head. She looks up again and shrinks away as much as she can manage from the power radiating off Jon.

“Yeah. Just like when we… when  _ I  _ fed the copper to the pit,” Breekon gloats and Fedlemid musters up a weak snarl. It’s drowned out by Baduard’s angry hissing. He’s reared fully up past Basira’s hip, hood flared and fangs bared. She’s never seen him so outwardly furious and Fedlemid wishes she could still summon that kind of emotion.

“Easy,” Jon passifies both of them. Baduard doesn’t put his hood down or retract his fangs, still glaring daggers at Breekon.

“What pit,” Jon asks and the static builds again, driving Fed to bring a paw up to cover the ear not pressed to the floor. It’s so much.

“In here,” Breekon says and taps his foot against the coffin. “Realized I’m not tied to it anymore. Not on my own. Thought you could have it, and her little mutt. Pay your respects like-”

“Daisy’s in there?” Basira says, more a statement than a question and Fedlemid  _ whines _ . She hasn’t heard Daisy’s name out loud in months.

They all keep talking as Baduard breaks and starts to slither slowly forward, towards Fed. Breekon gives him little more than a glance, letting him pass by without comment. Fedlemid feels like her chest might burst when Baduard curls up against her chin.

He’s not Daisy; he’ll never be Daisy, but she hasn’t had real contact in so long. She minutely tucks her head down to press against Baduard to the best of her ability and starts a low, quiet, comfort purr. She missed him, too. At least she has something back.

Baduard spends a lot of time with Fedlemid in the weeks that follow, Basira dragging a desk into the storage room with the coffin so she can do her work nearby. And Fed isn’t happy, she’s not sure she can ever be happy again without Daisy, but she isn’t wholly miserable anymore, just numb. Maybe there’s something to be said about that. Maybe.

She has someone to talk to again at least and Basira pushes her to move around more, work her neglected muscles. It’s mostly just slow, shaky, pacing near the coffin, but it’s something. It feels good to have someone care about her again. A sad existence, still, but ever so slightly better than it was.   
  
Jon takes Theophania with him when he takes the plunge himself. That’s good, Fed thinks. They’re never getting out of there, but at least they’ll be together. She wouldn’t wish this on anyone. She hopes they find Daisy while they’re down there, just so Daisy won’t be alone anymore, so she won’t be so afraid.

Little changes in the next two weeks. Basira and Baduard continue to keep Fed company, she sees one of Jon’s other coworkers every so often. Martin, she thinks his name was.   
  
There’s another man too, not Elias, who makes her fur stand on end and the broken part of her heart crack deeper. She doesn’t like when he comes by. He feels like he doesn’t have a daemon. Or if he does… she can’t feel them anywhere nearby. But who’s she to fear a man with no daemon when she’s a daemon with no person. This world has far more horrors than that to offer. It doesn’t bother her so much anymore. But she doesn’t like this man who smells like sea spray and carries a deep chill with him when he entered the room. He smiles with something bordering delight when he sees her and makes her blood run cold.

Martin starts bringing by loose tapes, scattering them on and around the coffin, after a few days. He gives Fed a wide breadth when he does this so she doesn’t pay him any mind. She can hear him muttering to his daemon from time to time, but she doesn’t pry.

But one day one of the tapes starts playing, no tape-player in sight. And then another one joins in, and another. Fedlemid’s ears ring with deafening static and something in her heart, deep and gone far too long without use,  _ tugs _ .   
  
“Daisy…” Fedlemid rasps, getting up from where she was laying down, ears tilted forward despite the noise. Fed felt her. She did. She felt Daisy. She drags her claws roughly down the side of the box, not leaving a mark, never leaving a mark.   
  
The tug comes again and the sound from the tapes is almost unbearable. Fedlemid doesn’t care. The pull is getting more and more instant and soon it starts to  _ hurt _ and Fedlemid has never felt something so amazing in her life. She paces anxiously back and forth next to the coffin, stumbling periodically in her excitement, she’s still not where she used to be, not even close.

And the coffin opens and Fedlemid screams her joy, so overwhelmed with emotion she hasn’t had the grace to experience since the unknowing. A hand,  _ Daisy’s  _ hand, breaches the lip of the coffin and Fed is gripping it lightly in her mouth to pull Daisy forward the moment she can.

“W- We’re out…” Daisy says, voice rough from disuse and dehydration. “We’re really out. Fedlemid…”

Daisy’s hand closes tight around Fed’s fur and it feels like Fedlemid’s heart might burst. She’d forgotten what this felt like. She uses what strength she has in her aching, starving bones to help drag them out, until Daisy’s lying on top of her, trembling and clinging, lower than either of them have ever been and yet, in that moment, happier than anyone who’s ever lived.

“Daisy,” Fedlemid cries, bringing her paws up around Daisy’s torso to press her close. God she’s so thin.

Fedlemid revels in every point of contact, every place where Daisy grips her fur. Daisy’s crying. Fedlemid doesn’t remember the last time she cried. Fed drags a dry, dehydrated tongue over Daisy’s head, making more mud than doing any actually cleaning. She is never letting Daisy go again.

The door slams open and Daisy presses her face into Fed’s chest to block out the blinding light.

“Jon, you  _ stupid  _ idiot!” Basira shouts and Fed feels Daisy tense. “What did you think-” her words cut off when she notices Fed cradling Daisy.

“Hi,” Daisy rasps.

“Oh my god…” Basira runs forward and drops to her knees beside Fedlemid and Daisy, hesitantly reaching out a hand to put on Daisy’s head. Fedlemid looks up at the tears in Basira’s eyes, at the dilation of Baduard’s pupils and the way he wavers looking at Fed and Daisy.

After a moment of consideration, God it’s been so long, she opens her hold on Daisy so that Basira can also bring Daisy into a hug. Baduard slides forward and presses up under Fed’s chin. It’s different this time, though, carries a different weight than him just being there for her.

“You’re alive,” Basira says like she can’t possibly believe it. “You’re-”

“Yeah,” Daisy says. Fedlemid notes how limp Daisy’s arms are at her sides and strains forward to lick one comfortingly. Her left paw is still draped over Daisy’s dead, dragging legs, not willing to relinquish contact fully.

“I-”

Fedlemid’s never seen Basira speechless before. She looks like she might cry too. And then Basira pulls Daisy into a kiss and Fedlemid sighs, long and high and happy. Baduard nudges Fed’s cheek and she wishes she had the strength left to reciprocate, instead a deep, neglected purr starts up in her chest.

“Took them long enough,” Baduard says, hushed.

“Really?” Fed says, barely loud enough to be heard even by the cobra under her chin.

“Did you two really never realize?” Baduard says, a slight mocking tone to his tongue. “We’ve been there the whole time.”

“Mmm,” Fed eloquently responds. She’s tired, and after a long, long time, she’s happy again.


End file.
